


Admit That The Waters Around You Have Grown

by Duck_Life



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Best Friends, Day At The Beach, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Pre-Series, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8269258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Greg's got a newborn and a hole in his heart and Vidalia's got a five-year-old who thinks he's too cool for Velcro shoes. Oh, and they've both got each other.





	

Vidalia knocks with her free hand and Greg comes to the door and _jeez_ , he looks like he had his heart yanked out and used to smack him in the face. He also looks ridiculously out of place in the little apartment. “No more van?”

“Oh,” he says, startled, like he hadn’t expected her to talk. “Yeah, well R— we, uh, I think… kid needs a _home_ home, y’know?”

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing around the lump in her throat. Days like these she’s desperate for their youth. The stage, the lights, endless nights of being rock stars with no responsibilities or consequences or _hurt_. “I called my mom and she told me I should make you a casserole,” Vidalia says, “but I don’t know how to make a casserole. So here.” She hands him a bag of Chex Mix.

“Thanks, Vidalia.”

“’Course,” she shrugs. “And I brought over a bunch of SC’s old baby stuff for Steven if you wanna help me carry it out of the trunk.”

Greg glances back to make sure the baby’s safe in his crib before following Vidalia out to her car. There’s a high chair, some foam blocks, a few bibs, a jumperoo and a bag of onesies including—

“This is _adorable_ ,” Greg says, holding up a baby-sized Elvis costume complete with sequins and a huge collar.

“ _I know_ ,” Vidalia says. “Sour Cream cried whenever I tried to put him in it. I guess he thought he was ‘too cool.’”

“Right, right,” Greg says, looking admiringly at the onesie. “He still going through that phase?”

“Five years running.”

They carry everything into the apartment and Greg opens the Chex Mix. “So,” he says, looking tired and sad and _old_. “How much did Amethyst tell you?”

Vidalia sighs. “Most of it.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

And jeez, what the hell is she supposed to say? _Sorry the love of your life gave up her physical form to become your son_. Crystal Gems are too much. No, scratch that, _adulthood_ is too much. “Listen,” she tells him, “if you ever need a babysitter, or advice, or… or weed, just…”

“Thanks,” he says. He looks like he aged ten years in the past two weeks.

“Yeah,” she says. “Us single parents gotta stick together.”

Seasons change, even at the beach. The water gets colder and the skies get darker faster, and Vidalia and Greg see each other almost every week. They take SC out fishing (“Meh.”), they take him to FunLand (“Meh.”), they go to the Empire City Zoo (“Meh.”). Steven tags along in the stroller, collecting all the stuffed animals they can buy him.

Steven’s got a full head of hair, and he loves his Aunt V. She tickles him until he screeches with laughter and she gives him raspberries on his belly right above the pink gem. When he starts crawling, it’s on the beach between Greg and Vidalia while Sour Cream builds a minimalist sandcastle two feet away.

Greg heals slowly, like an ugly scab that you can’t stop picking. Sometimes Vidalia catches him staring off into space, thinking about all the better, kinder directions his life could’ve taken. “Hey, Universe,” she calls, distracting him. “Bet you I can fit more Oreos in my mouth than you can.” Greg heals slowly, but he heals.

Steven’s first word is dada, but he says it to Vidalia. Which freaks her out until he continues to say it to Sour Cream, a bug, a tree, a bag of potato chips, and his actual dad. “Dada,” he chirps gleefully, pointing to a rock.

“You got it, Steven,” she says with a grin.

In her free time (which is, like, the two seconds between the time she gets off work and the time she has to put SC down for bed), she paints. Amethyst, Sour Cream, the beach, the boardwalk, outer space, her mom. Rose.

She only does a couple of Rose, and she keeps them hidden because she’s not sure that’s fair. It’s just that she’s always been inspired by the things that make her sad.

There is one portrait that makes it out of her garage, though, a really gorgeous painting, _huge_ , of Rose Quartz looking regal and magical and amazing. It’s an apology and a note of sympathy and a goodbye to someone she only really knew tangentially.

When she shows it to Greg, he wraps her in a bear hug without a word. “Oh,” she says, smiling a little. “I’m… glad you like it.”

He pulls back, wiping at his eyes. “Vidalia, thank… thank you so much,” he says. “The Gems and I are going to build a house for Steven. This is… this’ll look perfect in it. _Thank you_.”

“Yeah, well, you know,” she says, blushing a little because sometimes praise is harder to take than criticism.

Sour Cream teaches Steven how to look for shells while Vidalia and Greg sit on a big blanket on the sand watching them. Greg strums his guitar; Vidalia riffs a few lyrics. Rock ‘n’ roll doesn’t die, it just grows up and gets tired.

One night, they’re lying out on the beach staring up at the vast expanse of stars spread out above them. Steven’s conked out on the blanket between them and Sour Cream’s off to the side playing with the telescope his Uncle Greg got him.

“And that’s Cassiopeia,” Greg says, pointing.

“Really?”

“I don’t know.”

They lay there in the quiet, in the waves, the sound of little Steven snoring. “So,” Vidalia says, looking up at the stars so as not to break her cool façade. “I gotta tell you something, Greg.” She grins despite herself. “I think I’m gonna have to break up the single parents’ club.”

“Oh, yeah?” he says, glancing over at her. Heck, she’s _giddy_. He hasn’t seen her this happy in ages. “Fisherman Guy finally proposed?”

Vidalia tries holding back a smile, to no avail, and then she whips out her hand to show him the engagement ring. It’s not too showy, but it sparkles. It’s very Yellowtail— and very Vidalia.

“Congratulations,” he says, and he punches her in the arm and she punches him back and then he hugs her. “Man, you two are gonna be so happy.” Above them, a shooting star arcs across the sky.

The day after Onion is born, Greg shows up at Vidalia’s door. He’s holding a baby-sized Elvis costume complete with sequins and a huge collar.


End file.
